


it's so sweet, knowing that you love me

by orphan_account



Series: Mugs and Bunnies [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And a bunny, M/M, Soft and fluff, and Lance getting the love that he deserves, keith being a sweet boyfriend, keith's pov, klance, some more mugs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-17 04:26:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16967652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Keith hasn't seen Lance in ten days and surprises him.





	it's so sweet, knowing that you love me

**Author's Note:**

> Well, now there's a small world of Klance in the form of this series. I'm not sure how long it will be, but I may add small oneshots to it.  
> The title comes from [Sweet by Cigarettes After Sex](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZ31pyTZdh0).  
> And, well, enjoy :3

Keith walks into the makeup store Lance has been dragging him in even since before they had started dating. His expression is carved into one of his typical frowns, which explains why the employees slowly walk away from him and hide behind the shelves. Keith makes his way through rows and rows of makeup he’ll never know the true purpose of, until he comes to a halt in front of tiny containers of shimmering glitter.

“Would you like some help?” he hears a familiar voice and turns his frown towards the blond girl smiling back at him. Keith has seen her before couple of times, when Lance would wonder in and look for presents for his sisters or products for himself. His eyes flick down at her name tag and tries on a smile, hoping it doesn’t look scary.

“Actually, yes,” he tells Romelle and she steps closer, eyeing the sparkling products questioningly. “I’d like to buy some of these, but I have no clue which is better and which is just crap, so…” he drawls, ending his sentence with a vague gesture of his hand.

“Sure,” she beams and starts reviewing each of the products. Keith understands half of her ramblings, but he gets enough out of it and manages to pick out the best this store has to offer.

Romelle keeps a friendly smile on her lips as she packs the colorful containers neatly into tiny black boxes. She bends down to grab a bigger bag and starts putting the boxes carefully in it.

“I’ve seen you with Lance couple of times,” she starts casually. “Friends?”

“No, we’ve been dating for a while now,” he replies, a little awkwardly. Discussing his personal life with strangers is a little out of his comfort zone. But he’s slowly saying goodbye to his introverted self, now that he has to deal with a lot more people than before. Honestly, Lance knows literally _everyone._ “You know him?”

“My friend does, Allura. I see him at her parties sometimes,” she explains and slides Keith’s credit card on the machine. “So,” she wiggles her eyebrows wryly. “Are these for him?”

“Uh, yeah, I don’t really use makeup so, yep, it’s for Lance,” he blurts out, rubbing a hand nervously at the back of his neck. He’s feeling awkward, but it’s not the kind that makes him want to run away as fast as he can. Keith finds their small talk somewhat mediocre.

“That’s sweet, I’m sure he’ll like it,” she slides the bag to him and waves a hand with a smile.

Keith returns the gesture and walks out into the chill of early spring. It’s been raining all week and the streets are damp. Keith walks around a puddle and shoves his nose deep into his scarf, feeling his previous scowl crawl back on his face. He hasn’t seen Lance in ten days.

And it’s all his fault.

College had been kicking his ass, overloading him with projects and essays, he’d been living on two hours of sleep and oceans of coffee for the whole week, and as if that was not enough to stress him out, Sendak, his boss, Satan’s Lap Dog, had been giving him shit at work the whole time. So, coming from his horrible moods and killer headaches, Keith had been avoiding, maybe even ignoring Lance until the boy stopped reaching out to him. And Keith feels like a total jackass.

He remembers Lance saying how pretty glittered eyes were and that he used to put on his sister’s golden ones before he moved out. Lance had been meaning to buy some of it for himself, but he “accidentally” donated a little too much money to the cat shelters than his wretched bank account could’ve afforded.

_“The cat made me do it,” he defends himself poorly and Keith pinches the bridge of his nose. “Oh, please,” Lance continues, rolling his eyes. “You would’ve done the same faced with its overloaded cuteness!”_

_“Maybe, but right now, you’re the one with two-point-five cents in your wallet, not me,” he retorts, frowning slightly when Lance only rolls his eyes again._

_“I’ve been through worse,” he says, then links their hands and pull Keith forward. “Now, will you be a sweetheart and feed your starving boyfriend?” he flatters his eyelashes in a sweet way and Keith is ashamed of the effect it has on him._

So, as a form of an apology, he bought Lance the shimmers himself, each color of the rainbow. But as he walks past his favorite shop, he thinks that just some sparks are not enough, especially for Lance.

The bell rings above him as he opens the heavy glass door, some stickers of coffee and mugs glued on it.

“Keith!” the man exclaims joyfully from where he’s stocking the shelves, balancing himself on the ladder. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Evening, Coran,” he smiles politely and walks closer to the man, eyeing the familiar mugs on his way. He sees a copy of the red one in which Lance had made tea for him when he was sick to the bone. The memory warms his insides and Keith turns his eyes back to the man. “Got any new ones?” he asks and points his thumb at the green mug in his hands.

“Ah, it’s your lucky day,” he says, stepping down from the ladder and disappearing into the next aisle. Keith follows him with a pleased smile. “We just got our new collection, I haven’t even unpacked them yet.”

“Oh, I can come back later if it’s-- ” Keith begins, troubled, before he’s cut off.

“Nonsense, you’ve been our loyal customer since week one and earned special privileges,” the man says with finality and waves him off, walking towards the stack of unopened boxes.

It’s true, Keith was on his usual morning jog, minding his own business and lost in the music blasting from his headphones, when he noticed this small shop. Keith was always a collector, it started with unique rocks, soon growing into unique knives and on that day, his new pray became unique mugs. Big, ridiculously enormous mugs. Keith doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but if he did, then that’s exactly what had happened when his eyes laid on the gigantic red mug.

Coran tears the tape and unfolds the box. He takes out some soft pieces of paper and Keith’s eyes catche the glossy surface. The man takes one out and proffers it to Keith. It’s pastel purple, with a huge handle on the side, nicely curved at the end. There are cat-mouths and whiskers dotted all over it in small shapes. It’s perfect.

“I want it,” he deadpans, snapping his head up at the man. Coran laughs, petting the boy’s shoulder in an uncle-sort-of way.

“Of course, you do, come,” he makes his way to the counter, a knowing smile hiding under his mustache.

“Also, could you wrap a ribbon around it?” he adds. Keith’s eyes then land on the tiny note cards, each colored and decorated differently. He grabs a blue one with stars and a sleepy moon and places it next to the mug.

“Hm?” the man looks up, eyes curious and questioning. “Yes, of course. Are you giving it to someone else?” he probs and opens a small drawer, taking out a pair of scissors and a red ribbon.

“I am,” replies Keith and watches patiently as the man in front of him expertly ties a pretty bow, before putting the whole thing into a beige bag. He pays and takes the bag. “Thanks, Coran.”

“Anytime,” the man calls back, then, “Tell Lance to come by sometimes,” he snickers and Keith’s cheeks feel a little warmer.

Keith walks out and continues his way home. It’s already 8pm. Despite the urge to just run up into Lance’s apartment and hug the boy until they melt into each other, Keith thinks it will be better to see him tomorrow. Besides, Lance is probably beyond exhausted, Fridays are always busy for him.

He’s about to cross the road, only ten minutes away from his warm, cozy apartment, when his phone starts ringing. He sees Lance’s name lighten up the screen and answers shamefully fast.

“Lance?”

“Hey, babe, I _know_ you’re busy and I shouldn’t be bothering you-- ” Keith winces at his words, Lance never bothers him, never did and never will. Even for the past ten days, when he was paying him half of the attention Lance deserved, he was never bothering Keith. He was simply drained from energy to properly function – which Keith knows is not an excuse to be a jerk. “But I really need you to come over and help me,” he finishes in one breath.

“Is everything okay?” he says, worry slowly coloring his voice and Keith turns around immediately.

“Yes, just-- Hunk is out with Shay and will probably spend the night there, and I’m alone in a really unhandy situation and-- just, please, come over. I promise it’ll be a matter of seconds,” he says, voice uneasy and uncomfortable, almost pleading.

“Okay. You’re not hurt, right?” he asks and his steps become faster unwittingly, walking between the crowd of people and avoiding puddles of dirty water.

“No, I’m fine, just need a hand.”

“Okay, I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Thanks, babe, you’re a lifesaver,” he crows and makes a kiss noise before quickly hanging up.

 

. . .

 

Keith stands in front of a familiar brown door, breathing heavily from the flight of stairs he has bolted up on. He lifts his hand to knock, but quickly stops himself, glancing down at the bags he’s holding. He stares at them, then makes up his mind.

Keith takes out the mug and places the small, black boxes in it. Then he grabs the note card and takes out a pen from his schoolbag.

He places the card in-between the small boxes, keeping it in place and stands up, knocking on the door. Twice.

“Use your key!” he hears a scream and cocks a confused brow.

The door clicks-open when he turns the key and seconds later, he’s stepping inside the warmth of Lance’s apartment. It smells of vanilla and tea and something else that is just so _Lance._ He toes his boots off, feet a little frozen, and pads into the house. The mug is gently cradled in his hands and is held closely against his chest.

“Lance?”

“In the bathroom,” he hears a thrill voice, high-pitched and a bit embarrassed.

Keith places the present on the counter and makes his way to the bathroom, his mind flipping through hundred different scenarios he might walk into. The white door is slightly cracked open and the sweet smell of vanilla is the most pungent coming from there, overfilling Keith’s senses and making his head almost dizzy.

He pushes the door open and cautiously walks in, a little afraid of what might be awaiting him inside.

Keith stills and blinks. Once. Twice.

“Hey,” greets Lance with a sheepish smile, eyebrows furrowed and eyes a little wide. The word comes out careful, like he’s afraid of Keith’s reaction.

He’s lying in the bathtub, surrounded with mountains of white foam that covers most of his figure. His cheeks are tinted pink and damp hair is curled on his forehead. And his holding Bun in his hands. The bunny sniffs the boy’s fingers, wiggling his tiny nose in a cute way.

“What’s. Going on?” asks Keith, still staring at the scene before him.

“Okay, so you know how Fridays are basically me going to hell and back,” he starts, words coming our fast and in a form of an excuse. “And since Hunk was out for the day, and I had nothing to do, I decided a relaxing bath would be a good idea, you know,” he looks down at the bunny, frowning at it with no real heat behind his gaze. “But, apparently, I had left the door slightly open and this little shit has been trying to hop in for the past _half an hour!_ ” he exclaims dramatically, shaking the small creature in his hands lightly, as if scolding him.

Keith watches Lance lifts his eyes up to look at him again. He feels an amused smile twitch on his lips. This boy, honestly.

“I know, I know I could have just gotten up and closed the door, but like, I worked so hard for this bath to be perfect, used all the good products and the bubbles are perfect and I would’ve made a mess and-- well,” his cheeks flare a shade darker and Lance averts his gaze, suddenly finding the wall next to Keith very interesting. “It, sort of, was an excuse to see you too, so,” he traces off.

Keith feels the shame burn in his chest and his mouth fills with the bitter taste of guilt.

“Oh,” he manages.

“Just, take this little bean out of here,” Lance nods at Bun and Keith does as he’s asked to, carefully taking the soft furball in his hands and desperately tries to ignore the tingly feeling in his chest, caused by the simple touch of Lance’s fingers. Damnit, they’ve been dating for months and he’s still so weak for this boy. “Thanks.”

“I, uh,” Keith begins on his way out, stopping by the doorframe. His fingers trace tender lines on the bunny’s head. “Can I wait for you? You can take your bath as long as you want, I’ll just be in the living room.”

“Sure, is everything okay?” Lance replies, confusion ghosting across his features. He leans his head on the wall and tilts it a little upwards to lay more comfortable, exposing his long neck. Keith gulps and tries not to stare.

“Yeah, I just want to talk about something,” he explains and notices tiny glint of fear in the blue eyes, but it’s gone in mere seconds. “I’ll watch Criminal Minds until then, I haven’t seen last few episodes anyway.”

“Okay,” he smiles, but Keith sees it’s forced. “Sure,” the nonchalance is also forced.

Keith returns the smile, sweet and lovely, and closes the door behind him. He pads into the living room and slouches on the couch, blindly grabbing the remote and putting on an episode of CM.

“It’s just you and me now, buddy,” he tells the fluff on his chest and lets out a breath.

 

. . .

 

Keith is in the middle of the second episode, with snack bags spilled across the coffee table and a cup of tea in his hand – Keith began to enjoy drinking tea after he and Lance started dating and the boy was with him more frequently than before. Bun is napping on his chest, wiggling his cute nose occasionally. Keith has to fight the urge not to kiss it and wake him up – he only failed once.

He hears the bathroom door open and his head snaps up. Lance walks into the room dressed in grey sweatpants and one of Keith’s black hoodies he had stolen from his apartment. Lance looks good in many different clothes, but Keith’s favorite is when the boy is dressed in one of his own. It’s endearing and adorable. And it makes that small possessive side of him a little pleased.

“It suits you,” he speaks with a smirk, eyeing the dark material. Lance furrows his brows, confused, and looks down, as if he hadn’t even realized he was wearing one of Keith’s clothes.

Like he said, endearing and adorable.

“Oh, yeah,” he hums and Keith thinks it comes out a little shaky. Lance clears his throat and sits down on the floor, leaning against the side of his couch. “So, what did you wanted to talk about?” he asks and the notes of panic are audible in his voice.

He stands up, making sure not to wake Bun up and places him gently in Lances hands. Lance watches him carefully, like he’s trying not to provoke some kind of beast. Keith puts down the cup of tea and reaches under the coffee table to take out the glossy pastel, wrapped in a ribbon and filled with boxes, a gift card nested on top of it like a cherry on an ice cream.

Keith opens his mouth, but decides against it and just hands him the present, taking a sit next to him on the carpeted floor and crossing his legs. Lance, awestruck and jaw-dropped, carefully places the bunny on his lap and takes the mug, staring at it like it’s the most amazing thing he’s seen in a while.

“What are these?” he asks, his voice soft and fond, making Keith’s heart leap and spread fire in his veins.

“An apology, for being a complete ass,” he says.

Keith sees Lance visibly relax – his shoulders slouch down when a relieved sigh escapes his lungs, face molding in a weak smile.

“Jesus, Keith,” he breaths out, looking up at him and-- is he crying? Keith frowns at the sight of the watery blues. “I thought, I don’t know, you were angry and shit,” he huffs a laugh and quickly wipes his eyes with a sleeve.

“Why would I be angry?” he asks, frown deepening because he hates when Lance cries.

“I don’t know, you’ve been pretty…. absent,” he shrugs, not meeting Keith’s eyes as he toys with the red ribbon. “I thought you wanted a break or something.”

Keith leans closer, breaking into Lance’s personal bubble and forcing him to look up into his eyes. “Hey,” he says gently, puts a hand on Lance’s knee and rubs tiny shapes on it. His heart pricks painfully and Keith wishes to be thrown straight into the fucking hell. Like he would ever want a break from Lance, this gorgeous boy, who has a face of a Greek God and a heart which represents kindness itself. “Don’t think that way, I don’t think it’s physically possible for me to want a break from you. Okay?”

Lance watches him for a moment, then says quietly, “Okay.”

He smiles at Keith sweetly, flicking his eyes between Keith’s, then his blues return to the present in his hand and he takes out the note. Lance laughs when he reads it, causing Keith’s lips to quirk in a smirk.

“Did you rewrite it from those twitter posts?” he asks amusingly, turning the paper towards him. Keith looks at his black handwriting, rereading the sentence once again.

**_Sorry I isolated myself for ten days, I was having a moody episode and I’ll try not to do it again._ **

“…maybe,” he fights the smile to take control over his lips, but fails miserably when Lance’s grin becomes brighter.

“How are you this cute!” Lance lunches forward, sliding his arms around his neck and pecks his cheek lovingly. Keith snickers and sees how Bun hops away from the boy’s lap, glaring at them for disturbing his sleep.

Lance kisses him once again firmly on the cheek, making a _muah_ noise as he leans away. “What are these?” he coos excitedly and takes one of the boxes. He twirls it in his hand, examining it, before opening.

Keith watches patiently as Lance’s mouth forms a small ‘o’ and he gasps. “Noo.”

“I thought you’d like it,” Keith tells him, pushing his hair behind his ear – a nervous gesture.

“Wait, are all of these this?” he asks, eyes sparkling so bright the sun would be fucking jealous. Keith nods, smiling fondly at the sight of Lance being this blissful, like a child on a birthday receiving the biggest slice of cake. “And the mug too?”

“Yes, Lance, all of it,” he rolls his eyes, feeling a blush making its way up to nest on his cheeks.

Keith coughs. “I’m sorry,” he says, suddenly serious. His eyes are locked on Lance’s shoulder, but quickly flicks them up to the drowning blues, so that Lance will know he means each and every word. “I shouldn’t have ignored you like that, it’s not fair to you. And I’m sorry I made you feel like you needed to have a reason to see me,” he says, guilt eating him alive. “Or make it seem like you bother me, because you don’t. You don’t need a reason to see me and you most definitely don’t bother me, Lance. You can barge in my apartment at four in the morning for no good reason and I’d be happy to see you. So, yeah, I’m really sorry,” he finishes, feeling breathless, his hands are a little sweaty.

Lance reaches out and grabs his hand, rubbing a thumb soothingly on its back. “It’s okay,” he tells him softly, then adds, “I mean, ignore me again, Kogane, and I will eat your face off, I swear I will,” he says, aiming for a stern voice but huffing a laugh instead. Keith might be in love with him. “But, yeah, kiss me real good and apology accepted.”

Keith leans in without a blink and tenderly touches his own lips to the other’s. He feels Lance’s hands cup his jaw and tilts his head for a better angle, and sighs when Lance glides his tongue across his lip. The sweet taste of tea lingers on the boy’s mouth and it makes Keith’s head giddy. He pulls back slightly, their noses still nudged, and takes a deep breath, inflating his whole being with the sweetness of vanilla and tea and that something _unique_ that’s just so Lance. And seconds later, Keith is pulling Lance closer and continues the kiss, deeper. He feels drunk.

“Okay,” the warmth leave his lips and Keith opens his eyes. Lance is smiling, breathless. “This is great an all, but-- ” he reaches a hand under the coffee table and pulls out a piece of paper from one of his textbooks. “I have so much tea to spill, I can’t wait!” he beams, lips red and slightly swollen from the kiss.

“You wrote down gossip?” he asks with eyebrows raised up, amused at how ridiculous this boy is.

Keith might be falling in love. Deep and hopelessly.

“Duh, can’t leave out any details,” he says, as if it’s the most normal and obvious thing.

Keith shakes his head, standing up and gesturing at Lance to do the same. He lays back on the couch and pats on his chest, smirking. Lance smiles breathtakingly – that smile will be the death of Keith Kogane – and Keith’s hearts skips a beat. He slumps on top of him, chin resting on his chest, right next to his heartbeat, and his knees are bent so that his feet are in the air, ankles crossed.

Lance talks, talks, talks. And Keith can’t help but smile, listening to the boy like his voice is the most beautiful thing in the world – which, for the matter of fact, is. Keith’s hand is drawing small circles on the small of Lance’s back, the other cupping his cheek. Lance is leaning into the touch and Goddess, he missed this. He missed Lance so much, he can just sit and watch and listen to him forever. Fuck college for turning him into a zombie and taking this ray of sunshine away from him for _ten days._

“What?” he hears and is thrown out of the oblivion of freckles and deep blues and summery vibes.

“Hm?”

“You’re staring at me.”

“Well, you’re very beautiful, sweetheart, sue me,” he smirks, pleased the way Lance giggles, his cheeks turn a darker shade and he’s just _so fucking adorable, someone help this poor boy before his heart fails from excessive amount of endearment._

“Oh my god, you’re just-- ” Lance says and squeezes Keith’s face with both of his hands, pecking a kiss on his lips. “ _tan maldito lindo!”_

Lance reaches down for another kiss, but is stopped by a ball of softness abruptly hopping between them, wiggling his nose innocently. He smiles and kisses Bun’s nose instead.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this smol floff!  
> Leave a comment below, maybe suggest what my next work should be about. I'd love to hear your ideas!  
> Or come find me on [Tumblr](https://yourfriendlyneighborsam.tumblr.com/), we can scream about klance together!


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